


Masks

by dustjacketduck



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopian, Alternate Universe - Medieval Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustjacketduck/pseuds/dustjacketduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They would meet down by the lake and the ducks, both wearing their masks, to find that refreshingly anonymous peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masks

He wore his mask to hide the scar. She wore hers to hide her identity.  


When they met that day by the lake, they had no way of knowing who the other was, and what their acquaintance would start.  


But at the beginning it was simple. She was feeding the ducks, and the first few times, he just joined her silently.  


It was nice to be with someone who didn't ask what was behind the mask.  


He talked first, since his scars were nothing a mask and guarded heart couldn't hide. It was a pointless remark, almost small talk and very impersonal, but she started and stared at him.  


The first thing he noticed about her was not her mask, but rather her eyes, which were the only visible part of her true face. They were rich, a saturated cyan that looked like a captured sky.  


Only then did his gaze fall onto her mask. It resembled the ducks she so loved to feed, golden like the sun and adorned with feathers that could have been pretty if they weren't meant to conceal what was already beautiful.  


She gave an equally bland response to what he had said and the conversation ended, but they could both sense that something had changed. After that, talking became an easy part of their acquaintance.  


He fell in love with her a little each time they met. Sometimes he felt it, the indescribable warmth growing in his chest that thawed his heart, and sometimes he did not, but it didn't matter.  


She loved to dance, and he fell in love with her in the way she talked about it, how her eyes lit up as she spoke, and the way her body moved when she showed him what she knew.  


* * *  


They had known each other for about a year when he showed her what was behind the mask.  


“My name's Fakir,” he whispered, and when she looked up, he removed the armor with shaking hands.  


She didn't reel back like he half expected her to, and instead leaned forward, eyes wide, and rested her hand on his face.  


He allowed his eyes to drift closed at her touch, and her hand began to move, soft fingers tracing the whole length of his scars.  


“Thank you… Fakir,” she whispered back.  


He melted completely. Once he started to talk, he didn't want to stop, and was soon willingly spilling forth the story behind them, a secret he had kept inside for fifteen years.  


* * *  


“You're beautiful,” she told him earnestly.  


Fakir scoffed.  


“It's true. The scar doesn't detract from anything, Fakir. I mean… well, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It just shows that you experienced something awful, and survived, right? And isn't that a good thing?”  


Wearing it was a habit, and it was difficult to break, but whenever the temptation to put it back on arose, he remembered her, and how her eyes lit up whenever she saw him without it, and he found the courage to resist.  


* * *  


“What if I told you I love you?” he asked.  


She laughed. “I dunno. But you've never lied to me before, so I don't see why you should start now!”  


He hesitated for a moment. “You know I wouldn't lie to you. I trust you more than I've trusted anyone in years. So please, break my heart gently.”  


Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and she reached forward, pulling him into her embrace, bringing her head close and submerging herself in the sound of his heartbeat.  


* * *  


“What if…” she began, but trailed off. She took a deep breath. “W-What if I told you… t-that I love you too?”  


He swallowed. “I don't know.”  


“Close your eyes,” she instructed. He did.  


There was a pause, then he felt her lips on his cheek. He drew in a gasp, but did not open his eyes.  


She drew back, waited another moment, then told him it was safe to open his eyes.  


She looked down bashfully, and he figured and was probably blushing under the mask, but he just stared at her.  


“You can… do that whenever you want. I promise I won't peek.”  


She laughed. “We have a deal!”


End file.
